Three Cuts, You're Out
by demixselena
Summary: "Ever since she's left my life, I've started cutting again. Ever since she's left my life, I've started purging again. She saved me, and now she's gone."


**A/N- I promise this isn't going to be some sad, depressing story… well maybe it is. But then again, Demi's life was kind of sad, and depressing for a good bit of time. Maybe Selena was her hero? ;) lol idk  
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Fuck love. Fuck it. Fuck everything. I slide a razor across my wrist to feel a different type of pain. I slice my skin open, and watch the blood drip out and down the palm of my hand. Cutting myself lets me experience something other than being broken-hearted, lonely, or depressed. This is my dirty little secret.

I could only imagine what people would say about me if they ever found out I rely on self harm to get me through the day. I'm Mitchie Torres; a girl who tours with Connect 3; a girl who has millions of fans; a girl who has almost everything she's ever wanted, right? Wrong.

There's one thing I'm missing; one thing that keeps me digging this sharp object into my bare skin. Ever since she's left my life, I've started cutting again. Ever since she's left my life, I've started purging again. She saved me, and now she's gone.

She used to tell me I was beautiful at random times throughout every single day. She used to hold my wrist up to her lips, and place a gentle kiss on every scar I ever made on myself. She knows everything about me. I let her in. I let all my walls down. I told her all about the skeletons in my closet, and ghosts from my past. For what? For her to go and leave me after I make one mistake?

I can't handle it. She's the only thing I need in my life. Why can't I ever be happy, and actually stay happy? I had her, and then I fucked it all up. It's like I'm not allowed to live life with a natural smile. Every smile that appears on my face now is forced. A smile used to come so easily when I was around her.

When she was around she would make me smile by a simple wave or a cute kiss to my cheek. She would make me laugh by her silly little jokes, and her idiosyncrasies that I only seemed to take notice in. She would make me melt by the constant look she had in her eyes when she was scanning my face. She would make me shiver when she'd wrap her arms around me, and pull me in so close that I could hear her heartbeat. She would make my stomach turn when she'd lean in and kiss me like it was the last kiss we would ever share. But most of all, this would happen all at once, when she would utter those three simple words that never failed to make my heart swell.

Nothing else in the world would matter to me when she'd whisper that she loved me, or when she muttered it against my lips during a sweet kiss. Nothing in the world matters to me, but her.

I pick up my cell phone to dial her number, but I don't have the courage to press the green button that reads; "SEND." If she doesn't pick up, that would just make me even more upset.

I hit rock bottom this time. I really messed up. It's my fault, so I have to pay.

I drag the small razor across the skin on my arm once again, going slightly deeper this time. Tears stain my cheeks, while blood trickles down from the cut, waiting for me to wipe it up, but instead; I let it stain my skin.

The old scars were getting washed away by the red liquid trailing down my arm. The old scars were getting replaced with the new ones. And with new scars came new stories. New scars meant new heartbreak. New scars meant I broke down again. New scars meant I lost the ongoing inner battle with myself.

It's almost like an addiction. I'm addicted to cutting just like some people are drug addicts, or alcoholics. They can't seem to put down the coke or the beer, while I can't seem to put down a blade. I have before though, when she was in my life, I stopped for a good bit of time. She was almost like my treatment; like my rehab for my instability.

I know she loved me. She still loves me. I could tell by how her face drops when she's asked about me in interviews or by her fans. The look in her eyes gives the impression that she's about to burst into tears at any second, but she always holds herself together. I never meant to hurt her. She knows I would give anything in the world to have her back in my life.

She and I had been friends for about ten years before I went and trashed our friendship, and our relationship. What I did was horrible. It's my biggest regret, especially since I lost the only girl I truly loved and cared about.

I cheated on her. Well, I more than cheated on her. I lost my virginity to someone else while I was in a relationship with her. I don't know what I was thinking. I had everything I needed; I had her. She was finally mine after I spent years hinting that I was head over heels in love with her.

The only explanation I can think of as to why I would throw everything away in a matter of seconds is because of my low self-esteem. He told me he loved me, and I believed him. He told me I was gorgeous, and that he loved my body. He told me that he was going to make it special for me, and I trusted him.

What I didn't realize then was that she loved me. She told me I was gorgeous. She wouldn't have said she would make it special for me; if we ever had sex because I would have already known it would be special. She was special. We would be losing our innocence together. But like the screw up I am, I assured myself that it would be just as special with this guy, as it would be if it was with her.

I began to cry harder now; the tears were flowing out of my eyes with no intention of stopping anytime soon. The only thing I could think of to do was make a big slash down my arm. I dug the razor as deep as I could handle, not caring about anything at this moment in time.

My tears shed one after another, rolling down my face, and dropping onto my body. A few tears chose to land on my wounded arm. Blood and tears were mixed together, flowing like a stream along my extremely shattered body part.

My heart was still the most broken piece of me though. Just because my arm had a few scars, and freshly made cuts didn't mean that it was the most ruined part of my body. I could assure you, it's my heart.

My heart feels like it's broken into tiny pieces that could never be put back together. My heart is so broken; it feels as if she's just walking over the bits of my heart like they're not there in her path. Every single inch of my heart is still sitting right in front of her, waiting on an attempt to be made whole again.

I drew the blade away from the huge gash that now appeared on me, making my secret tremendously obvious to any bystanders that I would see once I left my house. If I ever left my house…

I couldn't resist myself from crying harder at the fact that the whole world might begin to realize my deep, dark confidentiality with myself. The press, my fans, the casting directors… everyone is going to know that I've been hiding my true self from them.

After a few minutes passed, I feel myself start to get a bit light-headed, and I'm seeing black spots around the room. I knew this couldn't be good.

The cut was too deep; it's making me feel woozy.

I pick up my phone for the second time, but this time I went through with the call to her. I pressed two on my speed dial before I felt fainter.

"Uh, hello?" I let out a sigh because she actually answered, knowing I was on the other line.

"Mikayla. I need you here. Now. It's an emerg—" I black out; faint right there on my bathroom floor for the first time ever since I took up this twisted habit.

"Mitchie?" No answer. "Mitchie?" Mikayla's voice cracked from the nervousness and concern she was feeling at this point.

* * *

><p>"Mitchie. Babe. Mitch." Mikayla cried.<p>

I open my eyes to find Mikayla's arms wrapped around me while she leans against the wall in the bathroom with me leaning on her.

My arm had bandages wrapped around it to stop the bleeding.

"What happened?" I ask the girl who I love dearly.

"You fainted. I called an ambulance, and your mom. They're both on their way. Fuck, Mitchie. Don't you ever fucking do that to me again! I was so scared that I was going to lose you."

"It feels like I already lost you…" I mumble loud enough for Mikayla to comprehend what I said.

"You know that I'm here for you no matter what's happened in the past, Mitchie. I'm glad you called me. Why'd you do this to yourself? I thought you were done hurting yourself like this. I can't even begin to explain how much it hurts me seeing you like this."

Why'd I do this? Well it couldn't be because I'm fucking in love with some girl that goes about her day like I never meant anything to her; like she never fell in love with me; like we haven't know each other for years; like I was never her best friend, could it?

"I did it because I was thinking about a few things. I did it because I'm hurt. My heart hurts, and nobody seems to care. I did it because I'm in love. I'm in love. I'm in love. I'm in love." I say repeatedly to make sure her brain processed what I said. "And no one, absolutely no one gives a damn about my feelings. I just wish someone would. I'm surprised you even came when I called."

Mikayla's arms and hands lay on top of my own, which rest on my stomach, but she moved forward, hinting for me to lift off of her. I force my frail body forward, and turn around to face her to see what she's doing. She remains in the same spot, but moves in closer to me.

Mikayla stares at my fragile eyes that hold all of my secrets. All of my secrets, in which, she knows about. I keep my eyes on hers, and wait for what's coming next. She lifts her hand up, and gently caresses my cheek.

Her eyes say everything right now. They say that she's scared for me, and she's worried about me. They say that she loves me with everything she has. They say that she does care about what I do and how I feel; she does care that I'm hurt; she cares about me more than I know. They say that she desperately needs me, but she wants to be strong, and not come back to me. They say that she wants me so bad, but she won't let herself have me.

"I need you. I need you so bad, Mikayla." I utter in barely a whisper as I drop my head, and let tears drip from my eyes. Her hand falls off my face, and I continue, "I'm nothing without you."

She takes a finger, and applies pressure to my chin, lifting my head so my eyes appear at her level once again.

There it is. Everything I want. She gives in. She stops fighting herself, and just does it.

She wipes the tears from my cheek, reapplying her hand to my face, and closes the gap between our lips. She kisses me with passion; with everything she has. She kisses me to make up for all the lost time we've had away from each other. And damn straight, I kiss this girl back with all that's left in me.

Our lips move in unison, and the palm of her hand stays on my cheek, while her other hand finds mine to link us together.

She's gentle with me because she knows I'm broken. She knows it's not just my arm that's torn, but my whole body.

Mikayla peels her lips away from mine, and it takes me a few seconds to open my eyes.

"I love you," Mikayla explains to me, "with all my heart, more than I love anyone else in the world. I need you just as much as you need me. I'm not letting you go this time, Mitchie Torres." A slight smile appears on her beautiful face.

Butterflies fill my stomach, and I know that this is all I've been waiting for since we split up. My face-eating grin forms to elucidate my feelings to her.

She understands me, and that's one of the many reasons I'm in love with her.

**A/N- i don't know if I like this or not.. so let me know what you think? review? **


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